The alley was dark, damp with the aftertaste of rain, the sound of dripping water filling the silence. Rael Kyro's footfalls were the only other noise, soft and uneven as he limped down the cracked, forgotten path. He hadn't cleaned the blood off his face—why bother? He wasn't finished yet. Not by a long shot.
The familiar scent of smoke and sweat clung to him, from the fight he'd just barely walked away from. His hoodie, once black, was now a patchwork of grime and bloodstains, the sleeves torn at the elbows, the fabric sticking to his skin from the sweat. He could taste iron in his mouth, a split lip, his chest throbbing with each shallow breath. His ribs felt like they were on fire.
Rael didn't have time for this. He couldn't afford to bleed out in an alley.
He staggered forward, the air thick with the scent of decay and gasoline, until a voice cut through the silence.
"Where do you think you're going, Stray?"
Rael's head snapped up, his eyes narrowing at the man standing at the other end of the alley, blocking the exit. The bruiser was tall, at least six inches taller than Rael, with a leather jacket that looked like it had never seen a wash. His knuckles were scarred, and a sneer twisted his lips. He was the kind of guy that didn't care about the rules—just about who walked out alive.
The guy had a nickname: Bonecrusher. Rael hadn't fought him before, but he recognized the aura. There was a reason he was a top earner at the underground fights.
Rael wiped his lip, tasting the blood again. "What do you want?"
Bonecrusher grinned, the light from the streetlamp flickering across his twisted face. "I want you to finish what you started."
Rael's fist clenched, but his body felt sluggish, weak. His eyes flicked to the exit—only twenty feet away. His legs felt like concrete. The fight in the ring had drained him. He was far from his peak. But if he wanted to make it out of this alley, he'd need to tap into something deeper.
"I didn't start shit," Rael muttered, the words coming out thick, almost a growl. "But if you really want to go, fine."
Bonecrusher cracked his knuckles, stepping forward. The sound echoed in the alley, harsh and menacing.
The first hit came without warning.
Rael barely had time to react. The bruiser's fist slammed into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Rael stumbled backward, gritting his teeth against the pain, and rolled with the blow, using the momentum to push himself upright. He could feel his vision swimming. Damn it. I can't afford to go down here.
Bonecrusher lunged again, this time throwing a brutal uppercut that would've knocked any normal man out cold. Rael dropped into a crouch, narrowly avoiding it, and sent an elbow crashing into the bruiser's ribs.
The blow landed, but Bonecrusher barely flinched. Rael's heart hammered in his chest. This guy's a beast.
Another punch. Another dodge. Rael moved like a panther, fast but reckless. His punches were wild, instinctual, the fight inside of him roaring to life. But he wasn't trained. He was just fighting to survive.
The power was there, but the control? It was lacking.
Bonecrusher roared in frustration, swinging a wide haymaker. Rael's body reacted without thinking, ducking just in time to avoid the blow. He didn't stop to think. He just moved.
Rael's fist shot out, hitting Bonecrusher in the jaw. A clean strike, not perfect, but effective. Bonecrusher staggered back, eyes widening in surprise. Rael could feel the tension in the air—this was his moment. He couldn't waste it.
In a flash, Rael closed the distance, delivering a quick jab to the solar plexus followed by an uppercut that sent Bonecrusher stumbling backward. Rael's fists were a blur, relentless. His opponent was bigger, stronger—but Rael was faster, unpredictable.
He landed another solid punch to Bonecrusher's face, knocking him back a few steps. Rael breathed heavily, blood dripping from his lip, sweat streaming down his face. Bonecrusher's expression twisted from cocky to confused. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to dominate, not get hit like this.
Rael was running on pure instinct now. His body moved before his brain could catch up, driven by something primal inside of him. Pain didn't matter.
He swung again.
Bonecrusher wasn't ready for the combination. Rael's fist landed on the bruiser's nose, snapping his head back. Bonecrusher stumbled, then collapsed on his knees, a groan escaping his lips. He didn't get up.
Rael stood over him, chest heaving, body trembling with exhaustion. For a moment, the alley was silent again. Only the sounds of distant cars, the soft patter of rain, and his own ragged breath filled the air.
"Stay down," Rael muttered, wiping the blood from his chin. His heart was still pounding, and his body screamed in protest. But this wasn't the time to stop. He couldn't afford it.
With a final glance at Bonecrusher, Rael staggered past him, towards the exit. "Next time," he muttered, barely able to keep his balance, "I'm not letting it go this far."
The alley was dark, damp with the aftertaste of rain, the sound of dripping water filling the silence. Rael Kyro's footfalls were the only other noise, soft and uneven as he limped down the cracked, forgotten path. He hadn't cleaned the blood off his face—why bother? He wasn't finished yet. Not by a long shot.
The familiar scent of smoke and sweat clung to him, from the fight he'd just barely walked away from. His hoodie, once black, was now a patchwork of grime and bloodstains, the sleeves torn at the elbows, the fabric sticking to his skin from the sweat. He could taste iron in his mouth, a split lip, his chest throbbing with each shallow breath. His ribs felt like they were on fire.
Rael didn't have time for this. He couldn't afford to bleed out in an alley.
He staggered forward, the air thick with the scent of decay and gasoline, until a voice cut through the silence.
"Where do you think you're going, Stray?"
Rael's head snapped up, his eyes narrowing at the man standing at the other end of the alley, blocking the exit. The bruiser was tall, at least six inches taller than Rael, with a leather jacket that looked like it had never seen a wash. His knuckles were scarred, and a sneer twisted his lips. He was the kind of guy that didn't care about the rules—just about who walked out alive.
The guy had a nickname: Bonecrusher. Rael hadn't fought him before, but he recognized the aura. There was a reason he was a top earner at the underground fights.
Rael wiped his lip, tasting the blood again. "What do you want?"
Bonecrusher grinned, the light from the streetlamp flickering across his twisted face. "I want you to finish what you started."
Rael's fist clenched, but his body felt sluggish, weak. His eyes flicked to the exit—only twenty feet away. His legs felt like concrete. The fight in the ring had drained him. He was far from his peak. But if he wanted to make it out of this alley, he'd need to tap into something deeper.
"I didn't start shit," Rael muttered, the words coming out thick, almost a growl. "But if you really want to go, fine."
Bonecrusher cracked his knuckles, stepping forward. The sound echoed in the alley, harsh and menacing.
The first hit came without warning.
Rael barely had time to react. The bruiser's fist slammed into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Rael stumbled backward, gritting his teeth against the pain, and rolled with the blow, using the momentum to push himself upright. He could feel his vision swimming. Damn it. I can't afford to go down here.
Bonecrusher lunged again, this time throwing a brutal uppercut that would've knocked any normal man out cold. Rael dropped into a crouch, narrowly avoiding it, and sent an elbow crashing into the bruiser's ribs.
The blow landed, but Bonecrusher barely flinched. Rael's heart hammered in his chest. This guy's a beast.
Another punch. Another dodge. Rael moved like a panther, fast but reckless. His punches were wild, instinctual, the fight inside of him roaring to life. But he wasn't trained. He was just fighting to survive.
The power was there, but the control? It was lacking.
Bonecrusher roared in frustration, swinging a wide haymaker. Rael's body reacted without thinking, ducking just in time to avoid the blow. He didn't stop to think. He just moved.
Rael's fist shot out, hitting Bonecrusher in the jaw. A clean strike, not perfect, but effective. Bonecrusher staggered back, eyes widening in surprise. Rael could feel the tension in the air—this was his moment. He couldn't waste it.
In a flash, Rael closed the distance, delivering a quick jab to the solar plexus followed by an uppercut that sent Bonecrusher stumbling backward. Rael's fists were a blur, relentless. His opponent was bigger, stronger—but Rael was faster, unpredictable.
He landed another solid punch to Bonecrusher's face, knocking him back a few steps. Rael breathed heavily, blood dripping from his lip, sweat streaming down his face. Bonecrusher's expression twisted from cocky to confused. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to dominate, not get hit like this.
Rael was running on pure instinct now. His body moved before his brain could catch up, driven by something primal inside of him. Pain didn't matter.
He swung again.
Bonecrusher wasn't ready for the combination. Rael's fist landed on the bruiser's nose, snapping his head back. Bonecrusher stumbled, then collapsed on his knees, a groan escaping his lips. He didn't get up.
Rael stood over him, chest heaving, body trembling with exhaustion. For a moment, the alley was silent again. Only the sounds of distant cars, the soft patter of rain, and his own ragged breath filled the air.
"Stay down," Rael muttered, wiping the blood from his chin. His heart was still pounding, and his body screamed in protest. But this wasn't the time to stop. He couldn't afford it.
With a final glance at Bonecrusher, Rael staggered past him, towards the exit. "Next time," he muttered, barely able to keep his balance, "I'm not letting it go this far."